Shi shi hokou dan
by torama-san
Summary: Ryouga tells about the darkness that lives within the Shi shi hokou dan


A/N this is a sad fic so beware!!!  
  
  
DISCLIMER:   
  
"I don't own dragon ball... ermmm, again please...   
  
*someone shouts*   
  
"JACKASS!!!"   
  
"hey! it was a mistake!!!"   
  
"yea, a stupid mistake"   
  
"well, I've to say that I don't own Ranma 1/2 nor any of it's characters, Takahashi-sensei does   
so don't demand me"   
  
"let's start with the fic before you say another stupid thing" said the voice   
  
"yea... wait a moment, Who are ya?"   
  
"ME?" asks the voice again   
  
"yea"   
  
"JACKASS!!!" shouts a femenine voice while Torama faints because someone had hit him with a   
spatula or something similar  
  
"And he say that he's a Ranma fan" said Ukyou while picking up Torama's papers   
  
"mmm, whats this?" She starts reading it  
  
  
SHI SHI HOKOU DAN   
  
And it appears again...  
  
The shadow of my growling hands...   
  
Illuminated as they had never been...  
  
But that power has a price...   
  
The price of sadness...  
  
  
My hands are empty, empty like my eyes, my glance, that living dead glance.   
Even so I like my hands. I see them and I feel curiosity by them... they are   
interesting, since they reflect power, hate and darkness...  
  
I had the chance, and I took it. Without thinking it twice. Even so I do not   
regret it. The possibility came of being able to defeat my eternal rival, and   
I did it, only one or two times... I feel more emptiness than before, I wasn't   
happy for beating him.   
  
Anyone in my place would had felt strong, happy and proud. To defeat Ranma Saotome,   
that is the great feat... Or it isn't?, since I had succes, It didn't make me happy,   
it didn't made me fell prud, nor strong. Because my lack of power was what defeated him.  
  
The move that allowed me do this is the one they call "Shi shi hokou dan". In it is   
necessary to deposit all hatred, the anguish, the frustration, the darkness of the   
heart, and form it in your hands, in the form of a great luminous energy, and then   
launch it to your opponent.  
  
Only those that have those characteristics can obtain it. It is something masoquist,   
but for me it's already a custom, it did not hurt me... I did not feel anything.   
  
No matter how hard I tried to fill my hands of that absurd hate, by that fear of my   
uncertainty, that frustrated love and mainly, by my fragile heart. I could feel   
neither sad nor to pleasure. I did not feel anything.   
  
Is there a way to excorscise the emptiness from my hands?... from my soul?   
  
I look them now, I test how strong they are. It even produces pride to me. But   
now I cannot turn them as they were before. I cannot shake them while runing persecuting   
the wind like when I was only a kid. I cannot take the petals from a flower, because  
I fear touching something... or somebody. I cannot show them to that being who they say that   
exists, the one they call god... I cannot, not anymore.  
  
I've put a wall in them which it prevents me to receive those feelings of confidence, of heat,   
love and joy. I am not prepared for that. My heart is not of that material. My heart begs   
to be able to have those feelings, but it knows that they are not more than an utopy.   
My hands know it. And I know it.   
  
I knew this since I discovered that it could make that move. And by this, more than ever,   
I don't have to be open to being penetrated with the hands of the love... not now... no longer.  
  
DAMN!! Why didn't love come to me before? Why didn't the hands of love and joy like me?   
  
But I can't return things as they were before, not any more. Either everything is done, or   
everything is constructed. I cannot deny to me who I am, the me that I constructed with   
much pain. I cannot. The people like me were not born to be happy, but since I'm like that,   
I am going to do the impossible to succes the only objectivein my life: Defeat Ranma,   
kill Ranma   
  
  
Now that you have that dark light in your hands, think...   
  
Are thou scared?   
  
Now that in your power is that dark force, think...   
  
Do thou feel alone?   
  
Now that in your hands is a strange hope, think...   
  
Do thou fell the darkness?   
  
  
My pain is to live, and to be what I am... who I am, Ryouga Hibiki, a superb martial artist,   
a warrior... it's that enough to me?  
  
I feel fear when I use the Shi shi hokou dan, but on the other hand, I cannot avoid   
not using it. It's a technique that looks like me, thats reason I cannot stop it.   
It is already part of my soul, of my soul that is in darknesses and penumbrae,   
but is.   
  
I know that they don't understand me, since everyone of them are fought to avoid these   
situations of pain and fear, of anxieties and uncertainties... but I know that these negative   
emotions are of my kind, It's better than tring to use something that no one pesses, the   
happiness, the real hapiness. I know that some people feel this emotion... but I've never met   
one of those touched but the higher beings, those blessed by the gods.   
  
I feel insecurity when doing this move. Because I've to show my feelings, the ones that are   
deep inside me, and that leaves me naked, empty.... I do not like that they watch to me,   
nor that they find out the things that I feel... simply I don't like it, they know how   
weak I am   
  
I know that often it is possible to me smile, that I can cry. I am a human, I am a being who   
feels, and who every time is losing that capacity... I am losing every time in the death...  
  
I feel anguish when I use the Shi shi hokou dan. It is hopeless to me to think that I am a lost   
soul. It terrifies me when I think that my heart is crying... that I've no right to have a   
heart... none of that makes me feel joy...  
  
  
Open your hands...   
  
You hear the power of that battle cry...   
  
And you hear the blast of darkness getting out of your soul...   
  
Stealing your soul...   
  
You see the blood of that lion made with hate, your hate...   
  
The blood that before was part of you, of your soul...   
  
And now it cries...   
  
  
The Shi shi hokou dan is the life that has come off of me, is the death that it wants to go out,   
and is the blood that desire to see. It is the humiliation that desire to expel, is the words   
that never will come out of my head, it's the glance repressed by the fear of a rejection.   
It is the absolute lack of happiness, or joy.   
  
The Shi shi hokou dan is the precarious life that is born of my soul, wich arise from deepest   
of my core of hate. It is the smile that I sealed in the immensity of the dark and desolated   
night, and the tear that never could fall, is the sadness of a failure, is the impotence...  
  
The Shi shi hokou dan is a way to express what I am inside, one more a subtler form...   
I think that I like this technique, although it destroys to me...   
  
The Shi shi hokou dan is the way to kill my happiness, in exchange for creating the dark   
that all refuse to have and to create, because of fearing the coldness in the heart, and burning   
themselves by not being welcomed by its lies and hypocrites lives...   
  
  
End o' the fic  
  
Ukyou finished reading it and blinked, and blinked again. Then she looked at torama and she hit   
him again with that damn spatula of hers, then smiled   
  
"Your spelling sucks, sugar"   
  
She spatulated (a variation of malleted) him again   
  
"But it was good, keep writing" she said as she went to the Uchan's   
  
Torama just smiled and jumped as if nothing had hapened, as if he wasn't K.O   
  
"BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! At least Ukou review it!!!" he yelled   
  
  
Hope thou've like it, it was a good story (at least a think so =) review and/or C&C please,   
And again, hope you've liked it   
  
my e-mail: torama_san@yahoo.com 


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